FOUR TIMES THE MADNESS is the personal blog of an Australian firefighter, mother of 4 small children. If naughty words upset you you'd be best to avoid reading it.
For everyone else the way she writes is so vivid the screen smells of Australian bush fire smoke, different from our local smoke. Go and read her on her Facebook page, "like" the page. The excerpts here are but a small selection, newest first.
Last
night - Midnight. The 2 dogs are pacing the hallway - I know what this
means. A storm is coming. I hope it brings rain, lots of fucking rain.
I can hear the heavy rumbles of the atmosphere in the distance. It brings an instinctive awareness of what’s about to materialise - and it does not arrive with a gentle sensitivity to my sleeping babes. This storm has something to say.
It’s like Mother Earth has woken up, and with forceful strength, she needs us to pay attention. ... continue reading https://tinyurl.com/yfr32ec4
January 1, 2019
Feeling really uninspired today. I’m not hungover, I’ve not eaten so much festive food that I feel sluggish and fat. I’m not even frustrated with the heat - 40 degree celcius is I guess just a typical Australian summer.
I’m just really fucking tired. I’m tired of the fires. I’m tired of the smoke. I’m tired of the endless hours that so many of my friends, family and community are putting in to do their bit to contain the firegrounds. I’m tired of the political bullshit we are all constantly asked about, and I’m tired of having to be polite when I decline to answer my thoughts on the Prime Minister and his action from the last few weeks/months.....continue reading....https://tinyurl.com/yh8osur7
I can hear the heavy rumbles of the atmosphere in the distance. It brings an instinctive awareness of what’s about to materialise - and it does not arrive with a gentle sensitivity to my sleeping babes. This storm has something to say.
It’s like Mother Earth has woken up, and with forceful strength, she needs us to pay attention. ... continue reading https://tinyurl.com/yfr32ec4
January 1, 2019
Feeling really uninspired today. I’m not hungover, I’ve not eaten so much festive food that I feel sluggish and fat. I’m not even frustrated with the heat - 40 degree celcius is I guess just a typical Australian summer.
I’m just really fucking tired. I’m tired of the fires. I’m tired of the smoke. I’m tired of the endless hours that so many of my friends, family and community are putting in to do their bit to contain the firegrounds. I’m tired of the political bullshit we are all constantly asked about, and I’m tired of having to be polite when I decline to answer my thoughts on the Prime Minister and his action from the last few weeks/months.....continue reading....https://tinyurl.com/yh8osur7
Ahhhhh - the fireground. Such a sparse and amazing area that we’ve been working on.
The fire that affected us here in the Blue Mountains, the Gospers Mountain Fire, has burnt in excess of 510,000 hectares. That’s only ONE fire - the country is burning with so many fires so far beyond this number. It’s freakin INSANITY.
This photo was taken yesterday, Saturday 4th January 2020.
We are somewhat clean, relaxed and happy, despite working in temps around 43 degrees celcius. It’s really hard to say that a fire of this magnitude has been ‘maintained’ - as it’s so widespread that their is still plenty of active fire all over the bloody place. But for now, our community is somewhat safe. We took some time to reflect and absorb our gorgeous surroundings.
Strategies, containment lines and a whole lot of fucking brutal physical work, by hundreds of Rural Fire Service personnel of all types, has started to make an impact on this bitch of a fire for our community. But others, are still taking a hammering all over Australia.
It’s bittersweet.
We spent the day to patrol in the trucks, back and forth like an iRoomba vacuum cleaner on crack hunting for a rogue toddler poo on the carpet. We were searching for hot spots and smoke columns in the dense bush lands. Our truck didn’t receive a lunch esky which are usually distributed at the beginning of each ‘shift’. But we didn’t mind. We are all required to be self sufficient anyway - food, water, snacks. Se we weren’t going to starve but the prospect of no meal was daunting for this hungry hippo of a woman.
The catering crews who feed the massive amounts of firefighters have been working harder than any other humans on earth - sometimes making what must feel like 12 million sandwich’s each day. They can probably make a salad faster than Edward Scissor Hands. Well if you ever got cranky at the catering crews for missing an esky, I’d suggest that you’d bumped your head and dropped your biscuits. Settle down mates, shut up and eat a muesli bar. Everyone was and still is flogging themselves to keep the logistics flowing. But on such a hot day, all I wanted was an iced bottle of water. First world problems, eh? I would be ok, I’m sure.
So this fella in the photo with me, is a good mate of mine. I can’t give you his real name, but I call him ‘Sausage Tits’. I’m not sure where the nickname originated, but like all Aussies, a nickname is imperative to survival in any friendship group. He’s originally from England, but I don’t hold that against him. He’s a top bloke, even if he talks a bit funny.
When this photo was taken, we were standing out on the end of a ridge line, on a sheer cliff face I’m sure was about 5 million metres high, with a fast, terrifying death waiting for you at the bottom. Have I mentioned I’m afraid of heights? So maybe that’s slightly exaggerated. But the view was absolutely breathtaking. We were balls deep in the land which we all respect and love so madly. It was one of the few highlights of this campaign that we’ve all poured our heart and soul into. And it’s so incredible to share such wonders with good mates.
We allowed ourselves to experience the emotion of a small victory during this fire season.
So after a shift on the hot trucks, drinking warm water and keeping each other sane with insults and stories from our lives, most probably extremely stretched of any form of truth, I arrived home for a quick shower, a change of clothes, and headed to work..... paid employment was awaiting.
Husband had taken #1 to a basketball in the city - it was his 13th birthday yesterday. And like many ‘real life moments’ during the fire season, we sometimes miss out. And that’s ok, because there’s still work to be done, crews to support, and a community to reach out too. And at 13 years old, as long as there’s food in the cupboard, wifi, and chances to fall in and out of sleep consciousness - I’m sure he can forgive me for not being home with the family.
And our firefighter minds now switch to other communities within Australia. Where can we go next? Who will we travel with, what work can we jump into to help the other fire affected communities interstate? Sausage Tits and I have already decided that when the time comes we are signing up together for deployment. He’s a good egg, even if he drinks tea on a 43 degree hot day and talks like a posh dickwad.
The fire that affected us here in the Blue Mountains, the Gospers Mountain Fire, has burnt in excess of 510,000 hectares. That’s only ONE fire - the country is burning with so many fires so far beyond this number. It’s freakin INSANITY.
This photo was taken yesterday, Saturday 4th January 2020.
We are somewhat clean, relaxed and happy, despite working in temps around 43 degrees celcius. It’s really hard to say that a fire of this magnitude has been ‘maintained’ - as it’s so widespread that their is still plenty of active fire all over the bloody place. But for now, our community is somewhat safe. We took some time to reflect and absorb our gorgeous surroundings.
Strategies, containment lines and a whole lot of fucking brutal physical work, by hundreds of Rural Fire Service personnel of all types, has started to make an impact on this bitch of a fire for our community. But others, are still taking a hammering all over Australia.
It’s bittersweet.
We spent the day to patrol in the trucks, back and forth like an iRoomba vacuum cleaner on crack hunting for a rogue toddler poo on the carpet. We were searching for hot spots and smoke columns in the dense bush lands. Our truck didn’t receive a lunch esky which are usually distributed at the beginning of each ‘shift’. But we didn’t mind. We are all required to be self sufficient anyway - food, water, snacks. Se we weren’t going to starve but the prospect of no meal was daunting for this hungry hippo of a woman.
The catering crews who feed the massive amounts of firefighters have been working harder than any other humans on earth - sometimes making what must feel like 12 million sandwich’s each day. They can probably make a salad faster than Edward Scissor Hands. Well if you ever got cranky at the catering crews for missing an esky, I’d suggest that you’d bumped your head and dropped your biscuits. Settle down mates, shut up and eat a muesli bar. Everyone was and still is flogging themselves to keep the logistics flowing. But on such a hot day, all I wanted was an iced bottle of water. First world problems, eh? I would be ok, I’m sure.
So this fella in the photo with me, is a good mate of mine. I can’t give you his real name, but I call him ‘Sausage Tits’. I’m not sure where the nickname originated, but like all Aussies, a nickname is imperative to survival in any friendship group. He’s originally from England, but I don’t hold that against him. He’s a top bloke, even if he talks a bit funny.
When this photo was taken, we were standing out on the end of a ridge line, on a sheer cliff face I’m sure was about 5 million metres high, with a fast, terrifying death waiting for you at the bottom. Have I mentioned I’m afraid of heights? So maybe that’s slightly exaggerated. But the view was absolutely breathtaking. We were balls deep in the land which we all respect and love so madly. It was one of the few highlights of this campaign that we’ve all poured our heart and soul into. And it’s so incredible to share such wonders with good mates.
We allowed ourselves to experience the emotion of a small victory during this fire season.
So after a shift on the hot trucks, drinking warm water and keeping each other sane with insults and stories from our lives, most probably extremely stretched of any form of truth, I arrived home for a quick shower, a change of clothes, and headed to work..... paid employment was awaiting.
Husband had taken #1 to a basketball in the city - it was his 13th birthday yesterday. And like many ‘real life moments’ during the fire season, we sometimes miss out. And that’s ok, because there’s still work to be done, crews to support, and a community to reach out too. And at 13 years old, as long as there’s food in the cupboard, wifi, and chances to fall in and out of sleep consciousness - I’m sure he can forgive me for not being home with the family.
And our firefighter minds now switch to other communities within Australia. Where can we go next? Who will we travel with, what work can we jump into to help the other fire affected communities interstate? Sausage Tits and I have already decided that when the time comes we are signing up together for deployment. He’s a good egg, even if he drinks tea on a 43 degree hot day and talks like a posh dickwad.
December 28, 2019:
.....Chicks in uniform are not princesses, and there is some seriously strong women in this establishment.
A while back, we’d been putting in a back burn behind properties. We worked hard, and the smoke was not always in our favour. My eyes were watering and stinging, my face was dirty - yet the tears from my watering eyes had cleaned vertical lines down both cheeks. My uniform stank, I had a rock in my boot, I was sweaty and probably smelt like a burning cow pat. When the fire was slowly burning back into the bush, with the hopes of meeting the main fire front, I sat on the dusty fire trail in the dirt and considered the situation. The fuel loading, the wind, looked at the time to acknowledge the upcoming weather changes. I checked my compass, and noted my crew mates around me. I curled my legs up under me, and tried to drink some water. Another fella walked by, and he asked if I was ok. “Mate - I could go a bourbon and a foot rub, but I’ve never been fucking better”. It feels good to do what you can out there on the land that we all love so much.
The bugs and spiders that move out of the fires path are interesting, to say the least. Spiders I can handle, beetles and stick insects always fascinate me. But the bush roaches? Nah. Keep those fellas away from me. They scurry around and run over your boots. Even though I cannot stand roaches you still try not to stand on them. You look like a kid trying to walk down the pavement, not wanting to stand on the cracks of the concrete path. They all serve a purpose. I don’t want to squish them, crunching them under foot doesn’t sound or feel so great.
A few local crews have come across 2 koalas - one just a small bloke, the other was a tired mum with her baby clinging to her back. It’s a bright spark of hope within the knowledge that so many animals and colonies have been completely decimated.
GOSPERS MOUNTAIN FIRE YOU ARE A BASTARD.
A local girl - well known for her passion for wildlife, has been working day and night with WIRES to try and collect any animals they find hurt or injured. Many can’t be saved, paws are burnt, possum tails are damaged, roo’s and wallabies tired and hurt. Smoke inhalation can get them too - It breaks my heart - not only for the people but also for the wildlife. It takes its toll on your emotions. Everyone has a battle right now. And the toll on everyone will last long after the green sprouts of fresh foliage begin to arise from the blackened earth. When will it just fucking STOP. It is an answer none of us have..... Four Times The Madness Dec 28, 2019
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